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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24343639">Thin</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/polverine/pseuds/polverine'>polverine</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>After Azkaban [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Gen, Minor Sirius Black/Marlene McKinnon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 07:48:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>869</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24343639</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/polverine/pseuds/polverine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“How is he?” Sirius asked Remus.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>“Thin.” He eventually muttered.</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Sirius waits impatiently to be reunited with his godson.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sirius Black &amp; Harry Potter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>After Azkaban [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1790506</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>72</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Thin</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sirius was only half listening to Arthur and Bill’s conversation. Occasionally he would make a noise of affirmation, but he was sure that they weren’t really fooled. He traced his finger over the jagged scar on his upper arm, (Marley’s healing skills had always been a little haphazard), as he had done every night in Azkaban. That evening had been horrific, of course, agonising and haunting, yet this scar had been his greatest source of comfort…soothing him in times of stress and worry. This clumsy, ugly line was irrefutable proof — etched into his very skin —  that Marlene McKinnon had lived, and breathed, and loved. There weren’t enough Dementors in the world to take that fact from him. </p><p>He kept looking at the clock on the wall…what was taking them so long? They were supposed to be here by now. He should have insisted on joining them, not taken no for an answer. If something had happened to Harry — if something <em>else</em> had happened to Harry, because he was an abysmal failure as a guardian — no, they were with Mad-Eye, he’d probably flown them via France. </p><p>Sirius stood abruptly and crossed to the pantry. He was sure he’d seen a bottle of whisky in here earlier. Locating it tucked behind a box of cereal, he poured himself a generous glass. The meeting began but he remained in the pantry, this was the least interested Sirius had ever been in anything they had to say. </p><p>Harry was too much like Lily and James, if they’d been ambushed he’d have fought. <em>He’s fine</em>, Sirius told himself. Though hadn’t that been exactly what he’d kept repeating to himself as he waited in the pumpkin patch for the Third Task to end? And Harry had certainly not been fine. </p><p>“There you are.” Remus had appeared so suddenly in the doorway that Sirius jumped and dropped his glass, it shattered on the floor but he didn’t care.</p><p>“Where’s Harry?” He asked, pushing Remus out of the way and stepping back out into the kitchen. </p><p>“He’s upstairs with Ron and Hermione. You can see him after the meeting.” Molly said. Remus grabbed his arm so quickly that, on another day, Sirius might have been amused. Who the hell was Molly to tell him when he could see his godson <em>in his own house?</em></p><p>Remus was constantly pointing out that she meant well, that she loved Harry, that she’d taken care of Harry. Sirius <em>knew</em> that he was right, deep down, but right now he didn’t give a shit. He bit his tongue and started to trace his scar again…though would Marlene have really kept her mouth shut? Probably not. She’d had a pretty short fuse when it had come to the way people talked about him…or to him. </p><p>“How is he?” He asked Remus, not moving any further into the kitchen to join the meeting just yet. This was more important. Remus seemed to chew on his answer for a moment. </p><p>“Thin.” He eventually muttered. </p><p>“How thin?” Sirius whispered, his eyes narrowing. </p><p>“Thin like you were when you came back to school for fourth year.” Remus said carefully, and Sirius ground his teeth. “He was locked in his room. Tonks said there was a cat flap in his door and it looked like there’d been bars on his window at some point.” He said quietly. It was lucky he’d dropped the glass because if it had still been in his hand he’d have thrown it. “Don’t do anything stupid.” </p><p>“Like what?” Sirius asked, as his imagination cycled through a variety of inventive and painful punishments for Lily’s awful sister and her husband…all of which Remus was sure to class as stupid. </p><p> </p><p>It felt like the longest meeting the Order had ever held. Sirius was itching to get upstairs. Three times Tonks had to kick him because the bouncing of his leg was irritating her. She must have thought he was doing it on purpose. It eventually ended, and most of the Order filed out. Sirius was half way up the kitchen stairs when he heard his mother. He bolted up the rest of them, his own shouts mixing with her screeches of abuse. After a few hard tugs on the curtains, he and Remus managed to pull them closed. </p><p>“Hello, Harry. I see you’ve met my mother.” He said because he didn’t know what else <em>to</em> say. Harry looked skin and bone, and there was a bruise colouring his neck that sent a fresh wave of fury flooding through Sirius’s veins. He wanted to tug him into his arms and never let go, except…he didn’t know how anymore. He’d been alone for so long that he could hardly even remember how to hold his own godson. It was one of those treasured things that Azkaban had ripped from him. He’d figure it back out eventually; he had plenty of time because Harry was never going back to that house, he didn’t care what Dumbledore said. While there was still breath left in his body, it was Sirius’s job to look after him. Next summer Harry would come back here. It might be a miserable place, but he would be loved.</p>
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